


I'd Follow You Anywhere

by superwholockwhatidk



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Cuddles, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protectiveness, Slight Canon-Divergence, Stucky - Freeform, Transformation, Worry, hopelessly inaccurate army regulations, mostly follows canon, multi-chaptered
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 10:40:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6325780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superwholockwhatidk/pseuds/superwholockwhatidk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Bucky was around for Steve's transformation? (AKA What does Bucky have to say about Steve and potentially dangerous science experimentation)</p><p>From there it loosely sticks to canon, diverging on a few plot points</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter picks up from when Bucky gets back to Brooklyn.

James Buchanan Barnes stepped off the train, and for the first time in weeks felt grounded. He'd managed to get himself leave, due to a malfunction of transport going up to the front line. As a consequence there were troops that could simply not be deployed, and the vast amounts of inexperienced, battle-thirsty soldiers just made a bigger target for air strikes.

Bucky would have liked to have said he was sorry that his calling up had backfired, and that he was frustrated that he wouldn't be joining the noble ranks of the 107th just yet. 

But of course he couldn't say that. It's easy to lie to others, but darn near impossible to lie to yourself. 

Bucky had felt disconnected the moment he had left Brooklyn, and even his short soirée into military service had left him drained and aching to be back home. And, of course, he could lie to himself and say that home was the crappy apartment he shared with Steve, or the sprawling tendrils of the city that he had lived in all his life. But it is hard to lie to yourself, isn't it? 

He started to miss Steve the minute he turned away from him at that damn-awful futuristic fair, when he could still see the hope in his eyes. When Bucky still felt the weak clasp of Steve's body, and still smiled inside at the banter that they exchanged, the sort that never failed to make the corners of his mouth twitch up into a reluctant smile. 

He missed messy hair and clear eyes and pale skin. He missed being able to wrap himself around Steve every night — claiming it was because of the cold. 

So it was no surprise that when Bucky reached Brooklyn his thoughts were on Steve, and Steve alone. 

He made his way back to their apartment, his body buzzing with excitement that he never quite could muster up at the thought of battle. And that excitement kept him happy as he waited for Steve to come home from work, his fingers anxiously running over his dog tags, from his firm seat on the edge of Steve's bed. 

He didn't start to worry until eight, when Steve still wasn't home. He'd started to nervously pace an hour before, but his heart hadn't started anxiously constricting until that point. In his minds eye he could see another dark alley with Steve facing off against a foe far greater than himself, alone, his hands balled into fists and his mind more than ready to fight, not aware that his body just wasn't up to it. Bucky could see that same puny body crumpling under a far meatier fist and a small, broken form lying alone in the cold night air.

So Bucky pushed himself off the saggy, second-hand couch and into the streets, barely remembering to snag his house keys before the door slammed shut behind him. 

For three hours he paced the darkening streets, his heart jumping to his mouth every time he encountered a new dark passageway. But his search came up empty. And that's when the most horrific thought of all struck him. What if the army had taken Steve on that night? 

It had been a last ditch effort from Steve. They both knew from the very first time Steve tried to enrol that he wouldn't get in. That he shouldn't get in. Bucky had known, and had held a degree of comfort in the thought, that Steve was too weak to be called into the army. He'd spent enough times trying to coax Steve's fragile lungs into spewing out just one more breath, he doubted a drill sergeant would have much more luck. And Steve running through smoky, possibly gas-filled battlefields was not an option.

And selfishly, he'd been happy. Every time Steve brought home another card — refusing to let him join one of the only things he had intrinsically believed in his whole life — Bucky had been relieved. 

Of course, his heart had twinged at Steve's crestfallen face, but passing that it would be fine. Life would go on. But this time Steve wasn't at home to be comforted, and Bucky wasn't trying to hide a weak smile as they commiserated together. 

Bucky stood alone in front of the entrance to the park that had shone with lights when he'd taken Steve there only weeks before. He could still see it clearly, Steve smiling in amazement at the attractions surrounding them and Bucky staring at him far too much, and at the girls he'd promised a good time to far too little. 

And then he realised it was close to one in the morning. His fears about Steve's recruitment weren't going to be resolved on this particular night. It was unlikely that he would be granted access to enlistment records in the light of day, let alone when he was half out of his mind with worry and sleep deprivation in the middle of the night. 

Though of course the thought crossed his mind of breaking into the building and rifling through files until he found one with the name Rogers, Steven embossed on the side. He stared long and hard at the dark theme park before turning away. 

He'd do anything for Steve, but endangering his whole life with a breaking and entering charge for no reason would just be stupid. Steve would say the same thing, his voice breaking and his signature 'jerk' coming out with hard edges, if he found Bucky in such a predicament. He was probably only out with friends, and Bucky was overreacting. 

So Bucky grudgingly walked away, just as the moon above him slipped behind a cover of cloud. 

*** 

 

Bucky reported to the same recruitment office the next morning, while the dawn sky was still easing from blue-grey into the more monotonous slate skies typical for Brooklyn. 

As Bucky stood at the front desk he felt almost as nervous as he had done when he'd first been called to enlist, and had had to report for basic training. For a moment he could imagine Steve standing at the desk, his heart in his mouth and a paper stamped with a red seal of approval clasped in his thin hand. Bucky quickly shook his head to dispel the illusion as the receptionist came to serve him. 

"How may I help you today officer?" The woman asked sweetly, smiling with pride at Bucky's uniform. 

Bucky did know how to dress appropriately for the occasion, a uniform would swing any heart and mind towards helping him more. He flashed a smile towards the woman before starting to land his requests. 

"I was just wondering if you'd had a Steven Rogers enlist here, and possibly get called up for basic training. The enrolment form would be dated a few weeks back?"

The woman seemed to take the bait and went to retrieve a file from the back. When she returned with a Manila envelope clasped in her hand Bucky starts to feel a sense of dread building up. 

"Let's see, we do have a Steven Rogers here, from Brooklyn, but the file seems to have been altered, it originally says New Haven here." She looks up at Bucky. "Is this the guy you're looking for?" 

"Yes, that's him. Did he get accepted when he signed up? Could you tell me where he is now?" 

The woman looks at Bucky with some alarm showing in her eyes, and Bucky makes an effort to relax his body language to calm her down. He's so close to knowing what he needs. 

"Yes, he did. Though it says here that the science division were the ones who signed off on his initial acceptance slip. He'll be in basic training now, New Jersey branch. It says he was shipped out the day after his enlistment. I hope that helps." 

She finished with a hopeful smile on her face but Bucky doesn't have anything more than a grimace and a brief thank you to give her before stumbling away. All he can think is that Steve, small, defenceless Steve is going through basic training. And that if he survives that the chances of him ending up on a battlefield are far too high. 

Bucky blinks as he enters the sun, collapsing on a bench to the side of the centre. His head spins and so he lets it drop to nearly his knees. Everything keeps spiralling around, the science division, Steve being shipped off, Steve accepted! 

And the thing is, it's all his fault. If only he'd discouraged Steve, told him to knock it off after the first failed attempt, this could have been prevented. But instead he just egged him on, downplaying his defeats as nothing and practically egging him on. And now Steve was gone! 

As Bucky sat he resolved to try and sort out the mess he had caused, no matter what. He'd get Steve back in one piece, from basic training and beyond. 

After all, he'd promised Steve 'until the end of the line', and he wasn't going to let something puny like the US military get in the way of him and his best friend.


	2. When the Levee Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's POV, Steve and Bucky reunite! (Because them being away from each other for a few weeks is far too long)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait for this chapter, I was floundering with the plot for a while. Enjoy!

Steve collapsed onto his bed after another solid day of basic training. And he has to say, it is becoming less like training and more like a test for how much his body can endure before giving out altogether. 

One rare advantage he had over the men he had been living with for the past few weeks was being accustomed to the beds. Most were complaining about the thickness - or lack of thickness - of the regulation army beds. When he and Bucky had first moved into their apartment they had had to buy new mattresses, seeing as neither of them had been willing to reuse the mattress that Steve's mother had died on. Steve tried to justify throwing it out by saying that it was a health hazard to sleep on, but he and Bucky both knew he wouldn't be able to live in the vicinity of it, let alone lie down on it every night. So Bucky had gone out and bought two new mattresses, of the cheapest kind, which happened to be thin and uncomfortable, much like the mattress Steve was lying on now. 

But one of many disadvantages he brought to the table was his apparent inability to sleep alone. 

It wasn't sharing a bed he missed — though he and Bucky had done a whole lot of that during the winter months — it was the lack of companionship. He barely talked to his fellow recruits, the atmosphere with them in the dorm room was downright chilly. But back home he and Bucky talked all the time, and they both always felt each other's presence wherever they were in the apartment, they were there for each other, they could both would count on it. Lying next to each other at night, a few feet between them in their shared bedroom, felt natural and right and like home. But even surrounded by men on all sides Steve felt utterly alone. 

He didn't know how Bucky could stand to be away in the army, and could understand now why Bucky was always so exuberant when he was back. Because being alone, completely alone, with all that terror would make anyone crave company like a human being craves air. Steve vows that when (or more likely if) he sees Bucky again he will give him the longest and most energetic hug that has ever existed. Damn what anyone else will think to hell. 

With that thought still glowing in his mind Steve eases into a normal sleep on the thin mattress that seems almost familiar to him. 

***

The next day Steve sneezes as he gets out of bed. 

For most people this would be a cause for concern, but Steve knows full well how crap his body is by now. A sneeze could mean the beginning of a cold that could knock him out of action for days — and by out of action he means unable to move — or a fever that seems to refuse to break. And Steve, for the first time in a very long time, would be alone to face whatever his body chooses to throw at him. 

The thought weighs heavily on his mind through pre-breakfast drills, the lukewarm porridge that claims to be breakfast and halfway through gruelling fitness drills. 

Steve slumps to the ground again after another embarrassing attempt at a press-up, his body burning with shame. He fails at something, he's embarrassed by his incompetence, and then to cap it all he is embarrassed by his own embarrassment. It's a vicious cycle. 

When a call comes to form up Steve almost gratefully falls into line with the other recruits, beyond caring about his physical inferiority to them. At least some seem to view his extra sweating as more effort being expended. The drill sergeant addresses them as a whole. 

"So, ladies, today among you stands a man who you should aspire to become. Apart from me. Private James Barnes, of the 107th, is joining you to train, as he is on temporary leave and wishes to keep his skills carefully honed. If you don't die over there, which I'm sure some of you will, I expect to see you back here." 

Steve's brain shuts down at 'James Barnes'. First he skips right over it, wondering why on earth anyone would sign up for basic training, AGAIN, he'll be lucky to survive his first visit. And then he truly registers the name, his head involuntarily snapping out of line to stare at the man next to the drill sergeant.

And yup, that's Bucky alright. 

He stands like the rest of them, vest top and trousers not dirty yet, his legs apart and his chin angled level, every bit the perfect soldier. But as Steve's head comes into view his mouth quirks into a smile, even before Steve is ordered back in line. 

Steve would like to say that Bucky being there made the day better. But it did still suck, as much as Bucky lifted Steve's spirits, he'd never quite mastered the art of transferring his physical strength to Steve. 

But the best part of his day was made even better by Bucky. As they ran the camp circuit — Bucky lagging behind with Steve to make it seem more normal that Steve was going so slowly — Steve felt as if his lungs were going to burst out of his chest. Bucky kept glancing over at him, his mouth opening as if to say something before he withdrew as quickly as he had turned. 

In a normal situation Steve would have wrangled whatever Bucky had to say out of him within two minutes of his odd behaviour starting, but on this occasion he thinks forming a single word might be unattainable. When the call finally comes to halt he doubles over, grounded by Bucky's hand on his back. So when a free ride back is dangled in front of him it's only natural that he uses his full logical reasoning to get the prize. 

And as he makes his way to the cart he smiles inside a little wider as Bucky slaps his back and hear the habitual 'jerk' float through the air. For a moment he forgets the accusatory glances of his fellow recruits, who would accuse him of cheating in a heartbeat, and only focuses on Bucky. 

Until he snaps back to reality as he sits back down and Bucky grimly readies himself to continue running, his sweaty hair flopping into his eyes in protest. 

***

When they finally get back to the dorm room — where Bucky insisted he stayed despite being offered a private room — they wait until the room is quiet until they open their mouths. 

"Bucky why—" is all Steve gets out before Bucky, with barely controlled rage, whispers: 

"Steven Grant Rogers, what the fuck are you doing here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for blatantly disregarding any actual military rules. Totally made up being allowed to enrol for a second training course. If you have feedback please leave a comment!


	3. It Happens in a Flash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve talk, snuggling is very necessary and the grenade scene happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait, this chapter's a bit longer to make up for it. Though it may have typos. Please point any out in a comment!

"Steven Grant Rogers, what the fuck are you doing here?" 

Steve stands frozen before him and Bucky's having trouble restraining himself from brushing the lick of hair damp from the freezing army shower they'd just been subjected to that obscures the edge of Steve's eyes. Which haven't changed one bit in the time they've been apart. 

What has changed is Steve's body. Most wouldn't notice, but Bucky could legitimately claim that he knows Steve better than he knows army regulations. Steve's much paler, the sickly kind of pale that comes from when he exerts himself too much, and can't seem to catch a breath. And his arms, and pretty much the rest of his body, are no longer undefined, but wiry and dangerously thin. Bucky feels he could snap a twig just as easy as one of Steve's too-thin arms at the best of times, and this change makes their size just ridiculous. 

Bucky angrily makes a conscious effort to re-engage in the conversation, internally chastising himself for letting his thoughts wander. Steve joined the goddamn army for Christ's sake ! 

"I - " Steve pauses, looking guilty for a moment before his shoulders square into a rare position that Bucky has come to loathe. Patriotic pride. "I have nothing to be ashamed of, I enlisted, I was cleared for duty, and now I'm here as a trainee." 

Steve's chest puffs out just a little more and Bucky feels like wrestling him into a hug and laughing it off. But they aren't in their apartment, where the pictures and yellow wallpaper make even the coldest day in winter bearable. They are freezing their behinds off in a godforsaken army barracks in the back end of New Jersey, and Steve has just made one of the most stupid — scratch that, the most stupid — decision of his life. 

"Steve, you've got to see that you'll never survive a war?!" Bucky almost pleads, though it comes out gruff and angry. "I saw you today, basic training is killing you! And to cap it all off you seem to have made an enemy of the biggest guy here! It's fine to be disappointed when you're denied access to the army, but don't keep coming back, when it's pretty freaking obvious that you'll only get yourself killed!" 

"But-" Steve interjects, his voice urgent yet still paling in comparison to Bucky's outburst. Bucky silences his attempt at speaking with a look and barrels on through. 

"Don't you dare make excuses! This is suicide and you dam well know it!" Bucky breaks off for a minute, his chest still heaving. Steve remains quiet, sensing the tension in the air, as a crease starts to etch its way between his eyebrows. 

Then Bucky's voice changes, adopting a different tone. Steve's annoyed expression melts away, and one of confusion takes its place. 

"Did you even think of what going on this fools quest would do to m— to everyone back home?" Bucky's voice is quieter, softer, but if possible even more saturated with emotion. "Who would even receive the letter to say you'd gotten your sorry ass killed? I wouldn't even be thought of. I'd come back from the war to a fucking empty flat. I do need you to split the rent, if nothing else!" Both of the opposing men's mouths quirk into a smile at Bucky's quip, before resuming their serious expressions. "When I get back, and I will get back, from winning this damn thing then I expect you to be waiting to see me back! This war isn't worth it if we don't get out of it together, you hear me Stevie?" 

Bucky turns away when the last emotionally-charged word had been spat out and slumps to sit on his mattress. That totally sucks worse than the cheap-ass ones Steve and him had scraped together back at the apartment. At home. 

Steve stands in front of Bucky's hunched form, unsure of what to do. Eventually Bucky lifts an arm and Steve lets his aching muscles collapse into Bucky's side. Bucky grips his far shoulder tightly, like he's worried Steve will disappear. 

"Buck, I'm not going anywhere. I'm just as capable of surviving a war as you!" Steve says, trying to make light of the heavy situation Bucky's created. Bucky lets a silence hang between them before speaking. 

"You're gonna go home. I'm not gonna let you sacrifice yourself for nothing-" 

And then the dam inside Steve bursts, and all the righteous patriotism comes gushing out. Bucky slumps around Steve a bit more, as if resigned to his fate. 

"I'm not completely useless, I'm still much better out here, or on a battlefield than sitting around twiddling my thumbs, waiting on you to come home. If I go down fighting, so be it, at least I know I did the right thing! You can't deny me this, not when you're doing the exact same damn thing!"

Bucky lets out a weak smile before dealing with the fallout of Steve's words. Self-righteousness has never been so annoying. 

"I don't care if I'm being a hypocrite, I'll be one if it means you're on the first train back to Brooklyn." Bucky says in a voice that struggles to remain flat and emotionless. 

"Well you'll have to deal with your non-hypocritical self because I ain't going anywhere." Steve shoots back, crossing his arms as his face sets with grim determination. 

Bucky sighs, reluctantly abandoning both the argument and his hold on Steve. He'll return to it the next day, when Steve doesn't feel like dying for his country. So basically any day that doesn't end with 'y'. 

Steve and Bucky fall asleep quickly, both aware of each other's presence. 

"Night Buck." Steve mutters, annoyance still an undertone in his voice. There's a too-long pause before Bucky's reply comes, but it comes all the same. 

"G'night Stevie." 

***

When the morning dawns, cold and bright, Bucky stays wrapped up in his sheets for a whole minute before he simply has to turn to face Steve. 

Of course he'd wheeled his makeshift bunk right up next to Steve's, which seemed isolated, even in the cramped dorm. As time goes by Bucky is just getting more and more pissed at the other men in this program. His training was rough, but at least some of the guys had a heart. 

His eyes finally alight on Steve's face, a familiar sight in the morning. Steve's face never seems to quite relax during sleep, sometimes his mouth is curved into a reluctant smile, and sometimes (like right now) his face is creased with pain or discomfort. 

As Bucky watches Steve's scrunched up face relaxes, before letting out an almighty sneeze. Bucky takes that moment to register the shivering that is wracking Steve's small frame. Goddamnit. That's sure signs for the flu coming along. And in the case of Steve, flu means a fever and compulsory bed rest. And basic training accepts no excuses, not even potentially life-threatening illness. Bucky's seen Steve push himself until he was that sick. He never wants to see that again. 

He's halfway out of bed before he realises what he's doing. And even the he just goes "Screw it" before rolling onto Steve's bed and encircles him in his arms, drawing Steve's body up to his chest. They've done it hundreds of times before, it's no big deal, but Bucky knows that if the Sargent saw this they could be in deep shit. 

Everyone's heard a story or two about soldiers who get a little too pally while out on extended missions, and the consequences they endure. And Bucky knows it would crush Steve to be deprived of the chance to fulfil what he sees as his 'duty'. Personally Bucky sees war as a heavy burden, not as a glorious quest. 

But he knows that isn't the case for Steve, and he'll be damned, by any higher power and most certainly himself, if he lets Steve go on his quest alone. And being with Steve for the ride might just mean holding him close during cold nights, that's all. 

When Steve wakes up, his blue eyes blearily focusing on the curve of Bucky's jaw that rests on the top of his head, Bucky decides it's time to move. But when he tries to extricate himself from the smaller man who huddles beneath him he is met with strong resistance. 

"Stay, you're warm." Steve says simply, his voice mumbling slightly but still coherent. 

If these words weren't enough to break Bucky's faltering will then the subtle shiver that takes Steve closer to the furnace of Bucky's chest would have done it. But with a huge surge of willpower and internal struggle he finally pulls away from Steve and slumps back on his own mattress. 

He nearly clambers right back on at the pleading look in Steve's eyes and the way he curls into a ball to try and preserve heat, but his reverie is broken by the rough stomping of military standard boots. 

The call to haul ass and get ready for 'the hardest test yet' is hardly surprising but still jarring to the room of half-asleep men. The cherry on the cake to seal Bucky's morning as unpleasant comes with him being placed at the front of the day's marching formation, while Steve is shoved to the back. 

As they make their pre-grub circuit of the camp Bucky spies the man running next to Steve shoving him to one side, and has to dig his nails into his palm to remind himself that these men aren't his enemies, and he can't start a brawl here or he'll risk being kicked out. Which means no Steve, which simply isn't an option. 

Later in the day he's happy to see the sun come out, though it makes the physical drills a bit more uncomfortable. Though the slight additional sweat he endures seems to be nothing compared to the agony drills must cause Steve. Back in Brooklyn he couldn't run three blocks without hunching over and gasping for air, though he'd viciously deny any such happenings. 

Bucky focuses his discomfort onto irritation at the Sergeant and the science guy standing idly by the truck while they labour away in the sun. Jerks. Then he sees the Sargent reach into his pocket and pull an object out that briefly flayed in the sun before sailing towards them. He hears the call of "Grenade!" And grabs Steve as he throws himself to one side. But mid-flight Steve wriggles out of his grasp and, unbelievably, throws himself on the grenade. 

Everything for Bucky freezes. He sees the army personnel looking on impassively, the hunched forms of the other recruits and finally Steve's body, which is so fucking small, curled around a fucking lethal grenade. His heart seems to stop in his chest as his body aches to the core. 

When he finally realises the grenade was a dud he notices some the tightness in his chest was caused by the fact that he wasn't breathing. Bucky totally ignores the impressed murmuring of the Doctor and the Sergeant to stare at Steve, reassuring himself that he's still there. 

When dinner comes around Bucky's still in shock. Everything seems to loud and too quiet, and he's focusing on everything at once. As they go to enter the building Bucky pulls Steve aside from their position at the back of the formation to the shadows at the side of the canteen. 

"Look, before you say anything-" is what Steve gets out before he's pulled into a bone jarring hug that makes Steve's ribs twinge and rubs Steve's sweaty torso all over Bucky. Who seems to have lost the ability to care about anything apart from trying to absorb Steve's body into his own.

"You stupid punk." Bucky says, his voice so raw and full of feeling and affection that Steve can't detect a single hint of accusation. Steve's shoulder twinges as Bucky's head falls so heavily onto it that he swears the ground shook. 

When Bucky doesn't move for an eternity and he swears he can feel a hint of wetness (tears?!) soaking through his shirt he pushes Bucky's head up to face his own, his hand gently cupping Bucky's cheek. 

"Hey, I'm right here, just my normal, jumping-on-grenades self." 

Bucky's eyes are still glistening when he surges forward and his lips meet Steve's. Steve barely registers the clash (and it's definitely more a clash that a caress, betraying desperation and an animalistic need) of teeth and lips before Bucky's pulling away, eyes wide. For a second Steve brings a hand to his chin, marvelling at the moment and the slight itch left by the scrape of Bucky's stubble before the silence between them is broken. 

"Steve I- I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened, I guess adrenaline-" Steve's reassuringly places a hand on his shoulder and Bucky stills. 

"Buck, it's fine." Steve says, still feeling really out of it as he simultaneously tries to calm Bucky further. "Let's go in." 

Bucky turns away quickly, embarrassed, his hand scrubbing his mouth like he could take back the action before it limply falls to his side. For a moment Steve thinks he's going to bolt, leaving him alone voluntarily for what will be one of the first times, and his heart sinks. But then Bucky's knee-jerk reaction has him falling into stride right beside Steve, like he always does. 

They enter slightly more disheveled that before, Steve's hair especially mussed and Bucky's lips pink and swollen. 

But soon they are brushing against each other with languid, knowing touches that feel so normal, and their friendly conversation starts flowing. Eventually they both start to register the world outside the two of them once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Any reaction and/or feedback are welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is very short, there is more to come!


End file.
